Anonymous
by SweetDeamon
Summary: Remus contemplates his impending insanity and an anonymous child. POA.
1. Chapter 1

_Note: So I was all set to write the final chapter of Lies and Letters and finally finish it...but then an idea popped into my head and wouldn't go away until I wrote it down! So, in an attempt to silence the plot demons, here it is:_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, J K Rowling owns it all._

Anonymous

If he took a step back and looked at himself, Remus Lupin would be the first to admit that he could identify a number of flaws, some of which were more blindingly obvious than others. The most blindingly obvious of all these flaws was, as his old school friends had once cheerfully christened it, Remus' "furry little problem". Indeed, one did not loose all humanity only to replace it with fangs and a tail once every month, and not deem this to be a "flaw".

_You know your problem, love?_ Remus recalled his mother telling him some years ago, prior to her death. _You're far too nice_. At the time that this had been pointed out to him, Remus had told his mother that she was being daft. After all, dark creature that he was, he always had to be as nice as possible, that way people might think he had at least one decent and, most importantly, human trait. But his mother had not been the first to point out this supposed defect in Remus' nature, his friends would often complain about it when he had reacted so mildly to the actions of hostile Slytherins at school, or when he had been so painfully polite to all those worthless employers who had practically laughed in his face when he had asked them for a job. He recalled his friend Sirius announcing that he should have "hexed that bastard's hand off, not bloody shaken it!"

Not that Sirius' opinion amounted to much. He had, after all, been thrown into prison some half a year later for cold blooded murder. On balance Remus figured his advice ought be taken with a pinch of salt.

Then, Remus mused as he sat in his office, staring blankly at the essay that he was supposed to be marking, there were other little flaws that probably didn't matter all that much in the grand scheme of things. But he would sit and list them to himself anyway because he was just in that sort of mood. Wretched.

Flaw Three: He was often in this sort of mood. In fact he was beginning to label himself as pessimistic, which was a bit of a delayed diagnosis because this year was actually turning out well. He had a job, for starters, a good one and he was enjoying it. And yet he still managed to feel gloomy.

Flaw Four: He looked about as good as his mood was. The only difference was his mood was able to change. Not that he was usually too concerned, he was resigned to his appearance and if he kept this job long enough he could at least improve his wardrobe. The thought cheered him a little as he twirled the quill pen between his fingers absent-mindedly.

It was Flaw Five that Remus gave the most thought to today. He was not sure if he could officially call it Flaw Five yet, though, because he had not quite decided whether or not it truly applied to him. If it did, he thought, he should probably switch it's number with Flaw Two because it was more fatal by far.

Flaw Five: Remus was losing his mind.

Or was he?

Remus set the quill down upon the desk and leant back in his chair, eyes drifting closed as he recalled the beginning of this whole predicament. Of course he hadn't realized anything too strange at the time, in fact he had hardly given it a serious thought. Not like now, when he spent most of his evenings just sitting around, wondering.

It had all started some two weeks beforehand, a Sunday afternoon to be more precise. If it hadn't been a Sunday, Remus mused, this whole thing might never have happened. If it had been a weekday Remus would no doubt have been rushing down that Charms corridor on his way to his classroom or the staffroom and he probably would not have noticed the strange boy wearing the turquoise jumper. But as it was Sunday Remus had not been in a rush to get anywhere much, he had been walking far more slowly. He had seen the boy staring intently at him as he passed by, his mouth slightly open as if the werewolf was shocking in some way.

It had been very strange.

And it hadn't been the only time that Remus had seen the anonymous child, either.

Remus had spotted him in the crowds swarming through the Entrance Hall the following day as the students of Hogwarts headed into the Great Hall for dinner. He stuck out like a sore thumb because he was still wearing that brightly coloured jumper whilst the rest of the students were in their black school robes. He had stared at Remus again. Remus had made an effort not to stare back.

On Tuesday Remus could have sworn the boy had been at the end of the line of second years waiting for him outside of the DADA classroom, but when the class filed inside he had seemingly disappeared.

Remus did not see the boy on Wednesday. He had felt quite relieved at this fact, too, because it meant he had time to assure himself that he was being ridiculous, that the boy was just like all the others at Hogwarts, despite his consistently awed staring. So Remus couldn't remember who he was or even which year he was in, it didn't even matter, he hadn't been teaching all that long and there were a lot of names to remember. He was bound to forget once in a while.

And so what if Remus didn't recall having ever seen the boy in any of his classes. Maybe he didn't take Defence Against the Dark Arts...

Unlike every other child of his age at the school.

It was then that Remus had began to consider the possibility that the boy was a figment of his imagination, that he did not even exist. The werewolf began to wonder if he was losing his mind. He had decided that next time he saw the boy he would talk to him. Illusions couldn't talk back, surely, and then he would know for sure. But every day since, when he had caught sight of the boy in the turquoise jumper, Remus had never managed to test his theory. He would hurry through the crowds of children towards the isolated colour, only for the boy to be gone by the time he got there. He had thought of calling out, but decided against this strategy. If the child was indeed a figment of his imagination it would not do to call to thin air. The students would think he was cracked.

And even if he did call, what was he supposed to say? Clearly the boy did not want to be caught.

Remus opened his eyes, frowning deeply, his fingers coming to tap upon the desk as he attempted to form some sort of explanation for the strange week he was having. He pictured the boy in his mind and tried to decide if anything was familiar about him.

That lumpy jumper looked rather like the ones the Weasley children seemed to often wear, home made, perhaps...

But the boy wasn't a Weasley, that was for sure. For starters his hair was brown, not red, and his face was void of freckles.

Harry had a Weasley jumper, too.

So...this boy was a friend of one of the Weasleys, perhaps...

But that still did not account for the fact that the boy did not appear to attend any lessons. Nor did he wear any school uniform.

Remus sighed again, beginning to feel frustrated. It was times like this that he could really use the Marauder's Map. That would sort fact from fiction, for sure.

He stopped tapping his fingers and got swiftly to his feet. He could not just sit around here all evening, he concluded, because if he wasn't a lunatic already he certainly would be after another hour of this. He'd go for a walk. Do the teacher thing and go looking for students who were out of bed after hours. It would make him feel normal, doing his job. He'd feel better.

The corridors of Hogwarts School were eerily quiet as the Defence Professor wandered along, lit wand held aloft as he listened to his echoing footsteps on the stone floor. Remus began to reminisce, an easy yet somewhat sombre distraction from his insanity. There was the broom cupboard that Sirius had locked Snape inside, in their first year when the pranks had been relatively tame.

That was the window seat he had spotted James and Lily sitting in, the first time he'd seen them holding hands. He'd sprinted all the way back to Gryffindor Tower to tell Padfoot and Wormtail. That night, Prongs had thrown a party in their dormitory. They had each eaten their body weight in Honeyduke's chocolate, it had made Wormtail sick.

Then there was the courtyard where he had confiscated a whole box of Zonko's products from a group of third year Hufflepuffs, his first act as Prefect. He'd been goaded into giving the box to his friends and they'd had a fun weekend causing mayhem for some unsuspecting Slytherins. When found out, his Head of House had made him solemnly promise never to abuse his powers again. After that he had learnt to be more careful...

Remus was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of footsteps. He raised his wand higher and squinted down the corridor for signs of life. There was no light from a wand, he could only assume that it was a student out of bed. He began to stride down the corridor, expecting to hear fleeing footsteps, only for them to get gradually closer instead. He came to a halt, squinting harder still.

A boy stepped out of the darkness, into the light of Remus' wand. He was wearing a turquoise jumper.

The werewolf stared. The boy stared back. Tonight his expression was somewhat nervous.

Here was his chance, Remus realised after a moment when he mind seemed to recover from his surprise. Here was his chance, quick, say something...

"Hello...?" he tried uncertainly, and immediately felt stupid. If the boy was actually real and Remus wasn't a lunatic he was certainly sounding like one nevertheless. At least if he was imagining things this would be far less embarrassing.

The anonymous child pressed his lips firmly together, eyes widening a little at the sound of Remus' voice. He drew in a deep breath through his nostrils. Remus found himself drawing a breath too.

Quite suddenly the boy took a step backwards, eyes roaming over the man opposite him in hurried scrutiny. Remus opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could think of anything the child had turned and fled down the corridor, feet hammering on the stone floor.

Remus simply stared after him. The turquoise disappeared into the darkness, footfalls fading as the boy rounded a corner.

Remus continued to stare into the black.

_Insanity it is then_, a voice in the back of his head concluded.

He would not see the boy again for many years, and when he did, Remus would not recognize him.

FINISH.

_Note: I've decided to leave it like this for now. Metaphorical cookies for anybody who can guess who the boy was! I might add an extra chapter as explanation later. =)_


	2. Chapter 2

_Note: So people were asking for an extra chapter...I don't think this is what you had in mind! It ended up a bit on the super-fluffy side and I'm not even sure it turned out how it was supposed to. But I'm going to post it anyway! With any luck somebody might like it!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter._

Remus Lupin had known that he was going to die.

That had been what Andromeda Tonks had told his son some thirteen years after his death.

_He told me so_, she'd recalled one night as she and Teddy Lupin had been sat in their living room, sipping hot chocolate. _That was exactly what he said, he looked up at me one evening when we were sat in this very room, whilst your mother was putting you to bed, and he said: I'm going to die, Andromeda._ Those were his exact words! And then he said: _Don't tell Dora._

_How could he have been so sure?_ Teddy had asked in a whisper, though in truth he was not entirely sure this was the sort of bedtime story he wanted to hear, and his grandmother had sighed and told him:

_I don't know, but he just knew. Some people thought it, they thought they were going to die, they knew it was likely. But your father...he was different. He knew. _

This was not the sort of recollection that Teddy Lupin thought wise at a time such as this.

It was precisely 2:21am, the night before he was due to return to Hogwarts after Christmas, and the young wizard was huddled at the little desk in his bedroom, squinting down at his Defense Against the Dark Arts homework; an essay on the subject for the Protego shielding charm. He had assured his grandmother that he had finished all of his homework weeks ago, and he was determined not to waste his time finishing it on the train the next morning because he would much rather catch up with his friends.

Teddy was well aware of just why he had managed to become distracted by the rather eerie and downright depressing conversation he and his grandmother had shared some week beforehand. It was because of the sentence he had just written in his essay:

_It is important to note, however, that the Protego charm is entirely ineffective in deflecting the Avada Kedavra Curse. _

It was sad, the boy mused as he tapped his quill pen impatiently against the desk, that the first thing that always came to mind when that particular Unforgivable Curse was mentioned was the death of his parents.

Teddy pursed his lips together and willed himself to concentrate. All he needed to do now was to describe precisely how one went about casting the perfect Protego Charm. At this thought, Teddy threw down his quill and leant back in his chair, scowling at the parchment accusingly. This final paragraph was far easier said than done, because it just so happened that Teddy Lupin was the last person in the world who would ever manage to deflect a fly, let alone a barrage of curses.

His attempts in class had been so utterly dire that Professor Groves had insisted that he take time to practice the required wand movement over the holidays, and the Slytherins had laughed hysterically at his failure. They hadn't been the only ones. Even his best friend Gideon had sniggered. Teddy could not understand quite what he was doing so wrong, he had never had such trouble at learning a spell before, and of all the spells to struggle with...! How was he supposed to become an Auror like his mother if he couldn't even cast a simple shielding charm?

Abandoning his essay, Teddy instead reached for the wand that lay to his left, and gave it a determined wave, frowning as he attempted to decide what he was doing wrong. So deeply engrossed in his task was he that he did not notice the bedroom door creaking open behind him.

And so it was that a silent figure in the doorway observed the young wizard waving his wand about with all his might, before throwing it to the floor in frustration and instead resorting to repeatedly murmuring;

"PrOtego! ProTEgo! Pro...proteGO..."

And then, after several minutes, Teddy's frustrated murmuring was halted abruptly when the discarded wand suddenly rose up from the floor, coming to hover before him. As the boy stared, wide eyed at the object, drawing in a deep breath to mutter hurried excuses to his grandmother who he was sure must have just caught him out of bed, a hoarse, vaguely familiar voice said:

"It's _protego_, like this."

And Teddy watch the levitated wand swipe diagonally through the air before him. Then it slowly lowered itself down onto the desk.

There was a long silence, broken by the sudden pounding of Teddy's heart in his chest, so loud that he was sure his father could hear it.

His father. Teddy knew his voice. He had heard it a few years ago when he had taken the time turner that he had found in the cupboard Professor Longbottom had insisted he clear out whilst in detention. He knew that voice, he could never forget it...

Hands gripping the sides of his chair, Teddy Lupin slowly turned around to face the doorway.

And there stood Remus Lupin, gaze locked with the turquoise haired boy once again.

As shocked as he was to find his dead father stood just inside his bedroom door, Teddy instantly began to do exactly what he had done the last time they had met. He made a detailed mental list.

Brown leather shoes. Well polished. Fraying laces. Grey trousers. Dark grey. Freshly pressed. The hem was beginning to come down on the right leg – Teddy's right, his left. There appeared to be a small teddy bear stuffed into one of his pockets. It looked familiar. Navy blue jumper, faded, worn. There was a pale stain upon it, just below his shoulder...like...sick, actually. He had a pale grey shirt. Chocolate brown eyes, straight hair a mixture of silver and brown. He was thin. Very thin. Quite tall...a little taller than Harry...maybe...certainly not as tall as Ron, anyway. He had long fingers. There was a paper cut on the index finger of his left hand. He was rather handsome...that might be biased...though perhaps beginning to look old. There were premature lines around the edges of his mouth and at the corners of his eyes. They seemed to fade a little when he smiled. It was a small, gentle smile, but warm. When Teddy opened his mouth to speak, he raised one long finger to his lips and said:

"Shh." And then he glanced over his shoulder towards the closed door of Andromeda's bedroom.

"But...I...I want to...to ask you...to ask you..._everything_." Teddy whispered when he finally found his voice, and Remus turned back to regard him with the same small smile.

"You don't have time." the werewolf pointed out simply, leaning against the door frame, expression a little regretful.

"But...but..." Teddy resisted the urge to jump to his feet, mind racing in an attempt to know what to say. He watched Remus' gaze roam around the room in consideration until it came to rest upon the small bookcase to his right, atop of which Teddy had abandoned a book that he had lent to Harry some week ago to read to James and Albus. Aladdin.

"I'll give you three questions." Remus decided, smile widening as he looked back at the boy, and Teddy nodded his head hurriedly. Three questions, just three...only three...three questions for his father...think, think...

Teddy couldn't think. And he was so desperate to ask something that before he could think better of it he found himself pointing to the stain upon Remus' jumper and asking:

"What's that?"

Mildly surprised at such a mundane question, the wizard glanced down at himself before dutifully replying:

"That was the breakfast your mother gave you this morning...my this morning. You decided it looked better decorating my jumper instead of your stomach."

Teddy's mouth formed a silent _oh_. And then he asked the next question that materialized in his head, one which he was much more glad of than the first.

"Gran says you knew you were going to die." he said, studying his father's face carefully. "How do you know that?"

"I saw you at Hogwarts. I knew it was you that I had seen as soon as you were born, your hair was the same colour as that jumper you wore. So I know I'm going to die. If I was going to live you wouldn't have felt the need to go back in time to see me."

At this explanation, Teddy felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He hadn't even considered the idea that his actions would have any real consequences for his father. To know you were going to die...to know your days were numbered...to have no hope...

"I'm sorry." Teddy whispered, suddenly finding it impossible to meet Remus' eye, only to feel mild relief when the werewolf merely said:

"Don't be. Come then, Teddy. What is your third question?"

And Teddy blinked away the tears that were threatening to seep from his eyes to look up at his father again and ask in a whisper:

"Are you afraid?"

His father was silent for a long moment, a slight frown creasing his brow before he took a few steps into the room, eying his surroundings thoughtfully. Teddy watched him observe the photographs of friends and family that Teddy had tacked to the walls, the framed certificate he had received in his first year for his efforts in class, the discarded Gryffindor scarf over the back of his chair, the broomstick propped up in one corner and the bookcase stuffed full of books. Finally, the wizard's gaze returned to his son, taking in the messy turquoise hair and stripy blue pajamas, before he concluded:

"No. Not at all. It looks as though you and your mother are doing perfectly well without me. If I don't have that to worry about then I have no fear at all."

Teddy opened his mouth to remind him that his mother was dead too, only to stop himself just in time.

There was no way for Remus to know that Tonks wouldn't survive the Battle of Hogwarts. Indeed, he probably thought she would be staying at home where it was safe. As far as he was concerned, Teddy still had his mother.

And Teddy wasn't going to tell him otherwise. He would not destroy any more of his father's hopes and dreams.

"We're doing great, Dad." the boy announced, just in case his face had betrayed any uncertainty.

Remus turned to glance out of the room, down the hallway towards the closed door of the spare bedroom. Realising exactly what was going through his father's head, Teddy quickly told him:

"She's not here...she...she's gone out."

"She has?"

At the surprise in Remus' voice, Teddy nodded his head vigorously.

"Yes! It's late, I know...but...but she went to a party. At Harry's house. She must be having a great time, since she's not back yet."

As Remus turned back to him, smiling broadly, Teddy forced himself to smile too as the werewolf asked:

"What's the occasion?"

"She got promoted at work." the boy lied hurriedly, delighting in the proud expression that materialized upon his father's face.

At that precise moment, they both heard the sound of movement across the hallway.

"I have to go." Remus immediately announced, and before Teddy could protest the wizard had hurried across the room towards him, reached into his pocket and drawn out a shiny golden pocket watch. Teddy watched, mind racing again as the object was set down upon his desk, before Remus reached down the front of his jumper to extract a glittering time turner.

"Wait..." Teddy hissed, jumping to his feet, eyes widening in panic. "Wait, I...I..."

"Shh." Remus whispered, pausing in his fiddling with the elaborate contraption, and at the alarm on the boy's face he reached to put a firm arm around the boy.

Teddy screwed his eyes shut against tears, yet he reveled at the feeling of Remus' arm around him.

"I love you, Teddy." Remus murmured, and Teddy had barely opened his mouth to say that he loved him back when he heard the creaking of a door out on the landing, and suddenly the weight of Remus' arm around him lifted.

Teddy's eyes snapped back open, only to find himself confronted with an empty bedroom.

His father was gone...

"Teddy?" his grandmother's voice called, and the boy hastily turned to find Andromeda stood in the doorway, dressed in her bottle green dressing gown.

Teddy simply stared at her.

"Goodness Teddy, it's the middle of the night!" she cried, and he immediately turned and made a dive for his bed. "You've got to be up early in the morning!"

"Sorry, Gran." Teddy mumbled as he hurriedly threw the duvet over him.

"Straight to sleep now, Sweetheart." she whispered, and the light upon the desk was snuffed out with a flick of her wand.

And once the door had been closed, Teddy reached through the darkness until his fingers closed around the pocket watch that Remus had left upon the desk. Sitting up in bed he shuffled over towards the window, holding up the cool metal object up towards the soft moonlight that was streaming through the window. He could just about make out an inscription upon the surface of the watch: _RJL._

For a moment, Teddy simply stared at his father's initials, listening to the faint ticking of the watch within, before turning it over in his hands to examine the back.

What he saw made him grin broadly.

_For Teddy_, a new inscription read, _with all my love_.

It was the most precious gift that Teddy had ever received, and he was sure that he would treasure it for the rest of his life.

And, though he never knew it, Remus Lupin had in turn received from his son a gift more precious by far, and he treasured it for the rest of his short life.

Because Teddy had gifted his father with the most wonderful thing of all:

Hope.

**Finish. **


End file.
